Blurred Lines
by starbuckmeggie
Summary: Here's Our Beginning...
1. Chapter 1

*A/N...this has been done to death, but I don't care.

* * *

God, I wish I was drunker right now. Then I would at least have a valid excuse as to why I'm going to ask Joey to sleep with me.

Just thinking about it makes me a little sad.

I shake it off and take another sip of my Scotch, hoping to make this seem like a good idea.

What has my life come to?

Am I so hard up that I need to have sex with Joey to feel better about myself?

Will I actually feel better about myself?

I'm a reasonably attractive woman. Should I have to go trolling to my—forgive me for even thinking it—sluttiest friend just to get a few moments of pleasure? To feel desired?

But Joey's a sure thing.

At least, I think he is.

I don't know that he's ever turned down sex, at any rate.

I wish I could stop thinking right now. If I think too much about it, I'll lose my nerve, and I can't lose my nerve. Despite how sad it is, I need this. I need something. No; I need someone.

I would rather have a boyfriend, but a one-night stand in London will have to do.

I just have to hope Chandler was right when he said, "Who wouldn't want you?"

I smile a little at the thought—it was such a sweet thing to say.

I realize I'm in front of Chandler and Joey's door; I knock before I can rethink this decision.

Moments later, Chandler is front of me, wearing ridiculous pajamas. I roll my eyes and make fun of him a little before I ask about Joey.

"Last time I saw him, he was headed out the door with a bridesmaid and a bucket of strawberries," he tells me, shrugging as he closes the door behind me. Naturally. It was pretty dumb of me to assume that Joey wouldn't have found a girl by now. I put my drink down on the desk and cross my arms over my chest. I suddenly feel really vulnerable and incredibly stupid.

I look up as Chandler asks me if I'm still upset about that guy thinking I'm Ross's mother, and am a little surprised to find no pity in his eyes—only sympathy for an upset friend.

"Wouldn't you be?" I ask defensively.

He surprises me, though—instead of commiserating with me about our mutually humiliating evenings, he tell me to let it go. "You were the most beautiful woman in the room tonight."

My heart skips a beat, then does this funny little fluttery-thing as I look at him in wonder. He said it so casually, as if it's just a given. "Really?"

"Are you kidding? You're the most beautiful woman in most rooms—" I don't let him finish that thought before I launch myself at him and kiss him. He stumbles back a little as I crash into him, but doesn't hesitate to kiss me back.

Maybe this is what I need. I never considered doing this with Chandler. Or rather, I never _let_ myself consider it. He's not the one-night-stand sort, and he's my best friend. I wouldn't want to lose him or hurt him, but…this feels so much more right than just the thought of sleeping with Joey.

All of a sudden, a very confused Chandler pulls away from me. He doesn't seem upset or disgusted with me, just…confused. I don't know that I blame him for that, either. Less than a year ago, I flat-out rejected the idea of him and me, and now I'm shoving my tongue down his throat.

He looks at me suspiciously. "How drunk are you?"

"Drunk enough that I know I wanna do this; not so drunk you should feel guilty about taking advantage." Funnily enough, though, I don't feel drunk at all right now. My mind is perfectly clear and I know this is exactly what I want.

"That's the perfect amount." I guess that was the right answer because Chandler practically hops over to his bed and sits down on the edge, pulling me with him. Instantly, our lips are on each other's again. I grab his upper arms and brace myself, moaning into his mouth. This feels amazing, and so, so right.

I break away from him for a moment and look at him in wonder. "You know what's weird?"

He's breathing heavily, looking at me in the same way, a small smile dancing at the corners of his lips. "What?

"This doesn't feel weird."

"I know."

"You're a really good kisser." I hate that this shocked me, but considering how he's always beating himself up about being bad with women, I can't help but be surprised. Not only is he a good kisser, but I'm pretty sure he's the best kisser.

He smiles bashfully. "Well, I have kissed over four women." He kisses me again for a moment before asking, "You wanna get under the covers?"

Oh, do I ever. There's not a doubt in my mind that not only is this something that I want to do, but he wants to do it, too. "Mmmhmm!" I answer, not even sure if I could form an actual word at this point. We rush to jump under the covers and I begin tearing off my clothes. I am so ready for this that I can't stand it. I look over and realize that Chandler beat me and is already naked.

I can't help it; I'm a little impressed. "Wow, you are really fast." It's nice to know that I'm not the only one excited about this.

"It bodes well for me that speed impresses you," Chandler answers, but considering that I already know he's a master with his lips, I don't know that I believe this self-deprecating remark. Besides, even if it's true, I'm already so wound up that I don't think it'll take me very long, anyway.

"We're gonna see each other naked!" I exclaim. The thought is beyond exciting to me at this point.

"Yep!"

"Wanna do it at the same time?"

Chandler grins at me; I like that we're on the same page with this sort of thing. "Count of three?"

I nod. "One."

He joins in and we finish the countdown together. "Two. Three." Simultaneously, we dive under the covers to get our first look at each other.

I feel my heart speed up a bit, partly from nerves, but mostly from excitement. He is nothing like I expected, and I'm more than pleasantly surprised. I start to smile and bite my lip to hold in my excited laughter as we both pop back up. The stunned look on his face speaks volumes.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that our friendship is effectively ruined."

"Eh, we weren't that close anyway," I tell him, both of us knowing it's a lie, neither of us wanting or able to turn back now.

"Eh!" he agrees and we collide once more. The feel of his naked body against mine is the most amazing sensation I've ever felt. His arms come around me, and he's so warm and hard and gentle all at the same time, I don't know what do with myself.

We're interrupted moments later by Joey and I dive back under the covers, pressed against Chandler's side, hoping that Joey remains oblivious to the world around him.

I can hear muffled conversation going on around me, though I can't make out the words over the sound of my heart pounding in my ears. I press my face into Chandler's side when I realize that I, once again, have the best seat in the house. Cautiously, I kiss his chest— the only part of him I can reach without shifting about under the blanket—and smile a little when I see the muscles there jump. I tilt my eyes down and see that he has his knee braced up slightly, which is probably for the best. If not, Joey would have very little doubt as to what Chandler was doing, or at least what he assumed Chandler to be doing.

My hand is already resting against his abdomen, so I let it skim slowly down his stomach, down to his hip, and am pleased to see other parts of his anatomy jump and twitch. The arm around my head tenses and I can feel him digging his fingers into my back. Throwing caution to the wind, I slide my fingers gently around his length—only for a moment, though. It was torture being so close but so far; I had to touch him, had to know how he feels. And it was good. But I don't want to push it too far and have Joey figure us out, so I remove my hand before Chandler's eyes bulge out of his head.

A moment later, I hear the door shut once more and Chandler flips the blankets back from my head, his eyes huge. I smile at him and shrug, no explanation.

"You're gonna pay for that," he tells me.

"Oh, God, I hope so," I answer.

He drags me across his body so that I'm on top of him and pulls my face down to his, kissing me hungrily. My head swims and it feels like the rest of the world is fading away. Nothing in my life has ever felt this…right. Who knew that kissing Chandler, being naked with Chandler, would be so wonderful? I'm already having a difficult time believing that it was Joey I originally wanted to find. He's a great guy, but I know for certain he'd never make me feel anywhere near as good as I do right now.

Abruptly, I pull back. "What did Joey want?"

Breathing heavily, Chandler answers, "Mind if we don't talk about Joey right now?"

I grin at him and run my hand through his hair tenderly. "I just want to make sure he won't be coming back."

"He came for a box of condoms. I got him to leave me one."

I raise my eyebrow skeptically, and already feel a little disappointed at the thought of only doing this once. "You sure one will be enough?"

He smiles at me happily before answering. "Well, someone distracted me a little while Joey was in here, so I wasn't thinking very clearly. But I'm pretty sure I have another box in my toiletry case."

"How sure?"

"Unless Joey found those somehow, completely sure. Those were actually the ones I packed for him because I knew he'd forget."

"What if they're gone?"

"Then I'll have to hunt down some more. Believe me when I say that I'll kill if I have to if someone stands between me and more condoms."

My heart clenches a little bit as I lean down to kiss him once more. He wants me as much as I want him—this is incredible. A few minutes later, I break away and grin down at him once more. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's take that condom out for a spin!"

He smiles up at me softly and reaches up to gently caress my face. "We've got time, Monica. We've got lots of time."

It's the first time he's said my name since I walked through the door and for some reason, that's what makes all of this so very real. This Chandler. It's me and Chandler. There's no going back after this. My heart starts to hammer.

In one fluid motion, Chandler flips us over and is now resting between my thighs, his body pressing me into the mattress, his lips on mine, his hands roaming my body…it's exquisite. It's beautiful and perfect. Somewhere in the last few years, the line between friends and lovers started to get fuzzy—I can see that now. We've been so close both physically and emotionally for so long now that this moment now seems inevitable. Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic, but it just seems right.

Chandler's in no rush right now, either, which only serves to excite me more. The more excited I become, the more I moan and make noises I'm not sure I've ever made before. My increasing volume only serves to egg him on, and the foreplay alone is out of this world.

Suddenly, his body leaves mine and I've never felt so bereft. I whine in protest as I reach for him, then realize he's fumbling with the condom, his hands shaking. I put my hand on his and he looks up at me, and what I see there makes me stop breathing for a moment. His eyes are full of lust and need and want and unadulterated desire. It's a good thing I'm already lying down because I can feel my knees go weak. I put my hand over his and squeeze gently. "It's okay," I whisper. "I'm not going anywhere."

That seems to do the trick because he smiles and within moments, the condom is on and he is on top of me again. "You ready?" he breathes, running a finger over my lips.

I gently brush my hand across his forehead, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I'm ready."

He brings his lips down to mine once more, crushing me to him, and then he's inside of me and I gasp. My whole world implodes as I realize that _this_ is what perfect feels like.

I clutch at his back as we start to move together and I know what it is that I feel.

Complete.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm lying next to Monica, panting, sweating, gasping for air, and I've never felt more alive in my entire life. I just had the best sex I've ever had. EVER. I'm sure there are a dozen other reasons why, but I'm pretty sure it's because it was with Monica.

"That was incredible," I breathe. "Just…wow."

She rolls over and presses her face into my shoulder. "I know!" she exclaims.

I tilt my head a little in her direction and see her eyes peaking at me, crinkled at the edges from the smile that I'm positive is on her face.

She is totally adorable and completely irresistible.

I give her arm a little tug and she slides on top of me, the grin on her face now obvious. Personally, my own cheeks hurt from smiling so much. This has to be the greatest day of my life. She leans down and kisses me, and for a moment I feel like I could die from happiness. Wanting Monica has become such a part of my everyday life that all of this feels like a dream.

I bring my hand up to the back of her head and deepen the kiss, and she moans into my mouth. Instantly, I'm ready for action again. Monica pulls away from the kiss and grins at me—apparently, the little soldier made his presence known to her, too.

"So, I take it you're ready again?" she asks, placing gentle kisses on my chest.

"It's been a while, Mon," I answer, blood already rushing from my head, pulling her lips back to mine, tracing my fingers down the length of her spine, feeling her shiver in response.

"Condoms?" she breathes against my mouth.

I groan in frustration. Damn it, I knew I was forgetting something! "Hang on," I say, and she shifts a little so that I can roll out from under her. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere." I'm sure she can hear the desperation in my voice, but I just can't bring myself to care. I scurry into the bathroom, hoping that for once the world is on my side and I do in-fact have more condoms in my toiletry case.

I don't turn the light on in the bathroom—I'd prefer not to see the wild-eyed look I'm sure I'm sporting at the moment. I grab the case and dump it all over the counter and panic. I can't find them.

Oh my God, I can't find them.

I push stuff around—why do I have so much junk in here?! I grip the edge of the counter and take a few deep breaths. This cannot be happening!

I feel disappointment spread through my body. I knew this was too good to be true. I slowly turn to leave the bathroom when I see them against the wall of the vanity; the box must have slid across the surface in my haste. It's all I can do not to jump for joy. It's only a travel-sized box, but it'll do. I squint at the front of the carton. It says there are eight in the box. That should do more than nicely.

I hold up the box triumphantly as I leave the bathroom, and she grins at me as I toss her the box. "I was getting worried," she says as she tears open the box and pulls out a condom. I slide back into bed and she immediately climbs on top of me, tearing open the little foil packet. "Thought you might've left."

As if. Never mind the fact that I'm naked and sporting so much wood I feel like a forest, I'd pretty insane to leave behind a naked Monica Geller. "Just had some trouble finding those little bastards. For a minute there I was worried I was actually going to have to go in search of condoms."

She shakes her head as her hands delicately slide the condom in place and I whimper; her hands on me feel out-of-this-world amazing. I bring my hands up to gently stroke her thighs, still amazed to see her with me, that she's completely naked and unabashed. It's glorious.

"No time," she says. "We would have had to go bare-back. I'm in no mood to wait." I'm still in the middle of processing that when she shifts her hips up and slides back down on to me. I groan loudly, entranced by the feeling of being a part of Monica. Oh, it's so good.

I look up and see she's biting her lip, a moan still managing to escape her mouth. "Ohhhhh, Chandler," she says in the most amazingly sultry voice, a voice that's at least an octave lower than usual. Hearing her say my name during sex is a heady experience, one that is thus-far unsurpassed.

I slide my hands up to her hips and grip as tightly as I dare, trying not to leave any marks. She begins to rock her hips against me, and the world disappears. All that's left are me and Monica, and the world is perfect. Watching her undulate on top of me is the most magnificent thing I've ever seen in my life. I'm utterly fascinated by our joined bodies, mesmerized with how we fit together so perfectly.

She suddenly grabs my hands off her hips and puts them on her breasts. Happy to oblige, I begin to knead them softly, and a noise escapes from somewhere deep within her as her body tilts back a little and she rests her hands on my thighs, her hips moving a little faster now.

I feel a new layer of sweat bead across my forehead as I try to concentrate on Monica and not all of the things I'm feeling. It's not easy, though; the effort on my part to maintain any semblance of control is Herculean.

I try to focus on bits and pieces of Monica, try to make it more clinical so I won't lose control of myself. Every little bit of her is fascinating. Her entire body is glowing with a fine layer of sweat; her breasts are bouncing appealingly in my hands; her mouth hangs opens as moans start to escape more rapidly.

This is the most erotic thing I've ever seen.

"Touch yourself," I whisper. Then I realize what I said and I have no idea where it—

OH MY GOD; she's actually doing it. I was wrong before; _this_ is the most erotic thing I've ever seen.

Unfortunately, too much of this and it will be over far too quickly. With a grunt of effort, I bring myself to an upright position. Monica pauses in her ministrations, looking at me curiously, her chest moving rapidly. I reach up and pull her face to mine, kissing her furiously. Taking care not to jostle her too much, I shift a bit more so that I'm now resting on my knees. She shifts slightly, getting used to the new position, and I release her lips, pressing my forehead against hers, taking deep breaths, trying to control myself.

"You okay?" she whispers, her free hand stroking my back.

"Yeah," I answer in a voice I don't recognize. "Just needed a minute."

She grins in response. "This is a amazing."

I slide my hand in between our bodies, linking my fingers with her hand that's already there, and she lets out a startled yelp. "God!"

"Want me to stop?"

She presses her body closer to mine, trapping my hand. "Stop and I will kill you."

I smile in response. "Fair enough."

She rotates her hips a little. "You ready?"

I press my free hand against the small of her back and push my hips gently against hers. Slowly, torturously, we start to move together, I kiss any part of her I can reach, desperate to be as close as possible. She responds eagerly, her hips thrusting against mine, our joined hands moving together frantically. All of a sudden, she starts to move against me erratically, my name escaping her lips desperately and repeatedly, before her entire body stiffens for a few moments and a long, satisfied, "Ohhhhhh," is all she can say.

I stare at her fascinated. I made her do that. It's unbelievable. My goal in life is now to get her to make that noise as often as possible.

Breathing heavily, she braces her hands on my shoulders. "Don't stop," she moans. "Keep going."

That's all the encouragement I need. I grab on to her hips once more and our pace picks up where it left off. Within moments, she's moaning again. "Oh, God, Chandler."

"So good," I mumble against her collarbone, about as coherent as I'm going to get right now. I move my lips down her chest and latch my lips around her breast.

She nearly bucks off my lap as she yells, "YES! RIGHT THERE," her head tossed back to the ceiling.

Every time I think she couldn't possibly be any hotter, she goes and proves me wrong.

I am totally okay with that.

I feel something tightening in the pit of my stomach and realize I don't have much time left. I force my mouth to leave her breast and pant, "You almost there?"

"So close. So close," she gasps out before returning to her moaning.

I attach my lips to her other breast and drive against her hard. The noises coming out of her mouth increase in volume as her hips meet mine every time.

I hope to hell she's there because I'm about to lose it.

Then there she is, clutching frantically at my shoulder blades, her body writhing against mine, my name coming out in whispered gasps. "Chandler Chandler Chandler," and I'm lost. I hold on to her tightly, riding out the storm.

A few minutes later, I realize that I'm still digging my fingers into her hips. I relax my grip and she slumps limply against me, her breath hot on my neck as she gasps in air. I reach one hand up and stroke her hair, bringing my other hand up to caress her back.

"Call me crazy," I whisper, almost loathe to break the quiet that has fallen over us. "But that was better than the first time. And that first time was pretty incredible."

She leans back a little and the look on her face is one of complete satisfaction. Her eyes are still dilated, and a smile is tugging at the corners of her lips. She says nothing; instead she leans forward and kisses me slowly, deeply.

"Mmmmm….I think I'm going to need that again," she says against my lips.

"You're probably going to have to give me a few minutes to recover," I answer.

"Recover quickly," she answers, her fingers dancing up and down my back.

An idea strikes me and I gently remove her from my lap, despite her protests. On shaky legs, I slide off the side of the bed, disposing of the used condom as quickly as possible. I turn back to her and pull her gently to the edge of the bed and kneel before her knees. "Just a little something to help with the recovery process," I tell her, hooking one her legs around my shoulder.

Her eyes go wide and I grin at her devilishly.

* * *

*A/N...What are you guys doing to me? Why am I writing such filth? Why is it so much fun?


	3. Chapter 3

Before I can react, Chandler has his face buried between my thighs, and my pelvis involuntarily lifts off the mattress. He gently grabs my hips and brings them back down to the bed, holding me in place. Several high pitched noises escape my mouth before I'm able to form some sort of sentence.

"Chan—Chan…Chandler," I pant, my head swimming. "You don't have to do this."

He hums against me and I swear I see stars for a moment. "Want me to stop?" he asks, his eyes looking up at me, his lips never leaving me.

"Oh, God, please don't," I whimper.

I've never been a huge fan of this particular act; maybe it's Jewish guilt over an act that we're usually taught is dirty, or maybe I've just never had the most spectacular experience with it. But Chandler—my God, Chandler—is making me feel things right now that I can honestly say I've never felt before. I feel like I've left my body several times over and am now begging to get back because I can see how much fun it's having.

I sneak a look at Chandler—he looks completely spellbound. Even I have to admit this looks pretty hot. My left leg is draped over his shoulder, his right arm is hooked around it, his hand gently stroking my abdomen. His eyes meet mine again and he winks at me. Before I can try to puzzle out what that means, I feel several fingers from his free hand slide into me at the same time his other reaches up to grab my breast.

"Gah!" I exclaim, my hips bucking even with Chandler's arm holding me mostly in place. Gibberish and pieces of words start falling out of my mouth. Apparently, I am not prepared to process this. My free leg comes up and braces against his shoulder; one of my hands clutches at the bedspread beneath me; the other reaches down and grabs Chandler's hair, attempting to keep his mouth in place.

He must be making noises of some sort—honestly, it's hard to hear anything over the odd wails I'm producing—because I can feel some sort of vibrations that are making this feel even more intense.

Suddenly, his teeth nip at me and I'm done. My back arches off the bed as an actual scream leaves my lips, lights flashing behind my eyelids.

I gasp for air as my body tries to come back down from this high, which isn't easy. Every part of me is crackling with energy, eager—no, desperate—for more. I've never been this responsive to sex. In the space of an hour, I've orgasmed four times. I feel like I can keep going even though my body is so highly sensitized I think the slightest touch will send me rocketing back in to space.

This is, without a doubt, the best sex I've ever had.

And it's all with Chandler. Which, somehow, makes sense.

I open my eyes and realize that I'm still whimpering. I look down at Chandler and he seems pretty smug, as he should be right now. I feel smug for him. Pretty damn happy, too, since I'm on the receiving end of all this bliss.

He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs another condom. I guess he's recovered. His stamina is pretty astounding, actually. So is mine, for that matter.

I guess we both really want to make tonight count.

He rips open the foil with his teeth and rolls the condom on, then crawls up my body, my leg still wrapped over his shoulder, his feet still planted on the floor. He waggles his eyebrows at me and, before I can protest that it's icky, he kisses me. And it's not icky. In fact, it's kind of hot. I wrap my hand around his neck to keep him close, moaning into his mouth.

He guides himself into me and my lips tear away from his so I can gasp. I don't know if I could ever get used to the sensation of him entering me—I don't know that I want to. The feeling is so profound and exhilarating, I want to experience it over and over and over again.

"God, Monica, you are so sexy," he tells me, looking deep into my eyes.

I stroke his cheek and smile. "_You_ make me feel sexy." I notice that he hasn't moved and I shift my hips a little, trying to feel some friction.

He chuckles and kisses my forehead. "You're impatient."

"I prefer eager," I answer, wiggling my hips again, my leg thrown over his shoulder making even just this more intense. "C'mon, stud."

"Quick question," he says, pecking my lips. "How do you want it?"

I raise my eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"This time? How do you want it this time? Want me to go slow? Want it rough? Fast? You tell me what you want and I'll do it."

Despite the topic, that might be one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me. "Well, and this is just going based on the position we're in right now, I'm gonna go with something along the lines of fast and dirty."

I don't know if the words have finished leaving my mouth before he begins to pound into me. The last couple of words melt into a long chorus of "ahhhhhhh," on my part. I clutch at his back and wrap my right leg around his left, granting myself better leverage.

"You like that?" he asks through gritted teeth, his hands bracketing my head, only our stomachs touching.

"Yesyesyes," I answer, my voice high-pitched and breathy. I sound like such stereotype that if I weren't having such a good time, I wouldn't be able to stand myself. "Oh, yeah, baby, right there." The endearment slips out before I realize what's happening, and I'm sure that at some point later, I'll overanalyze the hell out of it. For now, he either doesn't notice or doesn't care. He shifts his hips a little, changing the angle and I yell out loudly. "Right there. DEFINITELY right there."

I can't get over how phenomenal this is, how perfect we are together, how completely in sync we are. No awkward fumbling, no nerve, just raw passion. All of our years as friends has made this night possible. We know each other inside and out; that's how he seems to know instinctively just how far he can push me. I wasn't kidding before when I said that this isn't weird. I know for certain Chandler is the only one I want doing these things to me. It's the best thing in the world and I never want it to end.

"You. Are. So. Hot," he grunts out with every stroke. "So. Beautiful. Unreal. Want you. So bad." The cords in his neck are standing out with the effort.

I didn't know it would happen, but I feel that coil in my stomach tightening once more and I'm already excited about it. I move my hips frantically, eager for the release. I grab his upper arms, trying to tug him to me. "Please," I whine. "Oh, please."

"What, baby? Please what?" I briefly note he's returned my endearment, but just as quickly dismiss it. This is seriously heat-of-the-moment stuff. "Tell me what you want."

I struggle a little with my coordination, but part of me wants to let him know he's not completely in charge. I give another tug at his arms and crashes down on top of me, our rhythm fumbling for a second before we regain momentum. "I want you," I growl, the reach up and bite his shoulder.

"Jesus!" he yells, pumping his hips against me harder, faster, and I lay back for a few moments, simply basking in this, my eyes rolling back in my head. A chorus of various groans, names, grunts, and oaths reaches my ears, but I can't tell who is saying what.

Without warning, my body seizes up and I start convulsing around him, wordlessly yelling out my pleasure. My body locks around his and I hold on for dear life, for a split second unsure if I can survive this onslaught.

A few moments later, Chandler follows, his groans muffled by his face in my neck.

My eyes fly open; this one doesn't feel like it's stopping. Our hips keep moving together; I still feel like I'm splitting apart. An involuntary sob erupts from my chest; I really don't know how much more of this I can handle; the pleasure is too intense.

Just in time, it starts to subside and my breath hitches as I start to breathe again. Chandler's placing gentle kisses on my neck, my ears, my shoulders, whatever he can reach. He releases my leg and I slowly shift it off his shoulder, stretching it out cautiously. I'm vaguely aware that my hips are going to be are going to be ridiculously sore in the morning, but the trade-off seems worth it. I'll take sore body parts in exchange for sex like this any day of the week.

My body feels like it's vibrating, and I realize that my hands and legs are actually shaking. I'm not sure if it's the endorphin rush or something else, but at the moment, I can't control it. What we just did was intense. I don't know if we can top that, and honestly, I don't know if we should try. I think my heart would stop.

I feel Chandler's weight shift off of me and I groan in protest. Fortunately, he doesn't go very far; he moves just enough so that my I can breathe normally again. Or at least what passes for normal at the moment.

I look up at him and see he's already staring at me, the expression on his face one I can't identify. I feel a shiver run down my spine. He must think it's from the cold because he pulls me closer, the blankets a tangled, forgotten mess beneath us.

We stare at each other for a while, not saying anything, gently stroking each other's skin, occasionally exchanging soft kisses, the quiet of the room settling around us. He smiles at me lazily and I think he must be near sleep when I feel him against my thigh. I shift tentatively, wondering if this is even possible.

"Again?" I ask in a whisper, my eyebrows lifting in surprise.

He nods his head enthusiastically, causing both of our bodies to shake, sending a new set of shivers through me. "Again," he confirms. "But only if you want to."

"Oh, I want to." I reach up and pull his face down for another kiss. The languid feeling is now gone; I feel energized once more. I inch my way into a kneeling position, pulling him with me, keeping our lips together as much as possible. "Know what might be fun?"

"What's that?" His voice is muffled, distracted. I pull away and smile at him innocently, then crawl over to the headboard, placing my hands on top of it, keeping my back to him. I turn my head back to look at him and bat my eyes. "You like doggy style, right?"


	4. Chapter 4

My jaw dropped open. Monica is holding on to the headboard, her back to me, looking at me over her shoulder. She is sexy as hell. I can tell by the way her teeth are worrying her bottom lip that she's a little nervous, too. I want nothing more than to reassure her, to let her know how beautiful she is, how amazing she is, that whatever she wants I'll give it to her.

I glance down at myself, cringing slightly at the used condom. I pull it off carefully and toss it in the trash, grabbing a new one at the same time. I take a deep breath; I really can't believe this is happening to me. If this is a dream, I never want to wake up.

I put the still-wrapped condom on the bed next to me and crawl over to Monica, sliding my hands around her waist slowly. I lean forward and kiss the nape of her neck, gently caressing her stomach, and she lets out a shuddery sigh and relaxes in to me, tilting her head back.

I kiss my way across her cheek until I reach her lips. She moans softly, bringing her hand up to the back of my head, holding me in place. My hands roam over her body and I can't help but marvel at how soft her skin is, how responsive she is. I run my hands gently over her breasts and she moans a bit louder, her whole body jumping a bit, and I feel myself twitch in response. She pushes her hips into me insistently and I take that as my cue.

Somewhat reluctantly, I pull back from her body. Never in my life has foreplay been this good. I almost feel like I could do just this; kissing and touching her body is so unbelievably fulfilling.

I tear open the condom as she shifts her knees down the bed a bit as she gets into position, still gripping the headboard. As I roll on the condom, I marvel once again at the situation. I'm about to have sex for the fourth time tonight. This has never happened to me before.

I move closer to Monica and put my hands on her hips, my fingertips tracing little designs there. She looks over her shoulder at me once more. She smiles and nods her head, and that's all the reassurance I need. I slide myself into her up to the hilt, groaning loudly at the contact. She arches her back and hisses, a long, low, "Yessssssss" tumbling out of her lips.

I take a few deep breaths to steady myself. Being inside of this woman is like nothing I've ever felt, or ever expected to feel. Impatiently, Monica takes the lead, pushing her hips back against mine, setting the rhythm. I absolutely love that she's so eager and that she's just as turned on by me as I am by her.

For a few minutes, I watch her in absolute fascination, completely captivated. The muscles on her back flex and release as she moves; the strength I can see in her arms as she holds on to the headboard, white-knuckled; the soft moans she makes every time her hips pull away from me, and the louder groans every time our bodies reconnect; watching myself disappear inside her over and over and over...

"God, Monica," I groan loudly, releasing her hips, sliding my hands up the smooth plain of her back, running them down her arms until I get to her hands. I pry her fingers loose from their death grip and twine them with my own. I wrap our arms around her body and pull her torso up so that her back is pressed against my front. She lets out a whimper.

"That's so good," she whispers. "So good." Her fingers tighten around mine for a second before she pulls her hands free. I almost protest, but then one of her hands snakes around the back of my neck again, the other slipping underneath my arm, gripping the back of my thigh. Remembering how much she liked it earlier, I slide my hands up to her breasts, squeezing then gently. Her hips buck wildly for a moment, her fingers digging in to me. "Chandler!" she yells, and I kiss the back of her neck, grinning madly.

She turns her head and tilts her neck back, and I press my lips against hers eagerly. I can feel her heart thumping beneath my hands, and I feel a rush knowing that I'm the one causing it.

"Touch me, Chandler," she whispers against my lips and my heart stops for a second. Is this real? I wrap one arm around her chest, trying to spread my hand across both breasts, as my other hand slides in between her legs, the two of us moaning loudly at the contact, her knees sliding farther apart on the bed, granting me better access.

"You're amazing," I pant into her mouth.

In response, she bites my lower lip. "More."

If I must. I move my fingers against her more firmly and I feel smile, a happy moan rumbling in her chest. Her back arches away from me as she grinds her hips into my pelvis.

"Harder," she demands, and I know I can deny her nothing. I push against her frantically, finally releasing her breasts so I can grab her hip once more, digging my fingers in for purchase.

She falls forward onto the bed, catching herself so that she's braced on all fours, moaning out a long, "Ahhhhhh," as I slam into her. "God, Chandler, don't ever stop, don't ever stop, don't ever stop."

"Never never never never," I grunt in time with my thrusts, breathing heavily. "I'll never stop." Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realize that I don't want to stop, that I want to be able to do this forever, but I push that thought away, shrugging it off as an over-sexed, lust-induced thought.

"Ohhhhh," she moans, her hands sliding out from under her, her face pressing into the mattress for a second before she turns her head to the side so she can breathe. "So good," she wails. "You're so good."

I feel like I'm losing my mind. I don't know how long I can handle this. This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to me. I bite my lip and close my eyes, just trying to maintain. I can't let myself focus too long on the fact that, of all the people in the world, Monica is the one saying this to me.

She grinds herself against my hand as I continue to push into her. Her internal muscles clench around me deliciously. Sweat drips off my face and lands on her back, mixing with her own. The muscles in her legs flex as she works at maintaining our rhythm. I moan wordlessly.

Her body starts to tense beneath my fingers and her pelvis slams back into mine in quick, frantic movements. "Ohhhhh, Chandler," she moans. "Oh, Chandler YES YES YES YES YESYESYESYES."

Hearing her yell my name is more than I can handle. Her name tears its way out of my throat. "MONICA!" I slam into her a few more times before my body goes completely rigid for a few seconds, her body the same beneath my hands, the two of us riding out the waves together.

Finally, my body goes slack and I collapse in a heap on top of her, gasping for air. After a moment, I push myself off of her so I don't crush her. She immediately turns into me, pulling me close. I pillow my head against her breasts; she wraps her arms around my shoulders and drapes a leg across my hip.

"Wow," I mumble, still breathing heavily.

"Definitely," she answers softly, stroking my hair.

"I mean, just...WOW."

She laughs a little. "Definitely wow." I sigh happily and stroke her thigh. She tightens her grip on me and kisses my forehead. Gradually, our breathing returns to normal. She angles her head down to me and I crane my neck up to her, our lips meeting in the middle, kissing each other lazily.

"Monica Geller," I say as I kiss her. "You are the hottest, most amazing woman to ever exist."

She grins against my lips and giggles. She pulls back to look at me, her eyes sparkling. "Monica Geller is also about to be the most dehydrated woman ever. I need water." She kisses me a few more times before untangling her limbs from mine and crawling out of bed. I groan and flop into the space she just vacated, then cringe as I dispose of another condom. Worth it, though. I should be exhausted. I haven't gotten a workout like this since, well, ever.

Definitely worth it. .

"You want anything?" she calls over the sound of the running faucet.

"Nah. I'll just drink yours." I think I hear her snort, and the water turns off.

A moment later she reappears, wonderfully unconcerned with her nakedness. It's enough to make me melt. She undoubtedly is the hottest, sexiest, most beautiful, coolest woman in the world. My entire face lights up into a smile. She grins at me in response and saunters around the bed, placing the water glass on the nightstand. I reach out and gently stroke her side with my index finger. She shivers and her entire body trembles delightfully. She grabs my hand, pulling me in an upright position. I lower my feet to floor and wrap my arms around her as I stand. She tilts her neck back to look at me and for the first time I notice just how small she is; the top of her head barely comes to my chin.

"Hey, pretty lady."

"Hey yourself," she answers, pulling my head down to hers, kissing me gently for a few moments before tilting her head and deepening the kiss. I moan happily and start walking until her back hits the wall.

*A/N…I actually wrote this part several days ago; when I posted part three, I had no idea that doggy was going to be in such high demand, so I will apologize now if this doesn't meet expectations. Also, it's interesting to note that when I getting your reviews in my email, I kept seeing d***. I had no idea what that meant. I went to message someone about it, and saw that in the review on , it meant doggy style. Weird.


	5. Chapter 5

My back hits the wall with a thud. Chandler is like a machine. Or the Energizer Bunny. I laugh low in my throat, kissing him frantically. I lift my leg a bit, wrapping it around the back of his calf, reveling in the feeling of his naked body pressed firmly against mine.

He hooks his arm under my knee, lifting it higher on his hip. I go up on tiptoe on my other foot, trying to stretch myself out, trying to get closer.

"Hey, Mon," he says a moment later.

"Mmm?" I mumble, distracted.

"As phenomenal as it would be, I don't know that I can do up-against-the-wall sex right now." I pause for a moment, considering. That's fair-this position would leave most of the work up to him. Seeing as how we're headed into our fifth inning of the night, the fact that either of us is still standing is pretty impressive.

I kiss his neck and gesture vaguely to my right. "Bureau."

Immediately, he eases me on to the piece of furniture, moving to stand between my legs. I reach in between us and slide my fingers down his length, feeling him grow harder. "Better?"

He presses his forehead against mine his breath already coming in gasps. "Oh, so much better."

I grin and continue to stroke him gently. I lean in to kiss him and he brings his hands up to rest on my upper arms. I lick my lips and caress him a bit more firmly. He groans out something that sounds like my name. I wrap my legs around his back and bring him closer. I haven't really touched him like this since the evening started, and now I can't get enough of it. I love the way he feels beneath my hand, how responsive he is, how warm and firm he is.

All of a sudden, he tightens his grip on my arms, pulling me to him and kissing me roughly. Too soon, he backs completely out my grip.

"What's wrong?" I ask, startled.

He's wide-eyed and shaky, panting heavily. "Nothing. I just...don't want to waste one if it doesn't include you."

The sentiment is sweet, so I focus on that. I lean my head back against the wall and smile at him, allowing my legs to drift further apart. I don't know what's come over me; normal Monica has never been this abandoned. But his eyes nearly bug out his head and my only concern now is how to get him back to me. I tilt my head and crook my finger at him.

He holds up a finger, asking me to wait a moment as he turns back to the nightstand. He quickly chugs the water I left for him and picks up another condom.

God, I'm glad he had the foresight to pack extras. Once definitely wouldn't have been enough.

He heads back to me, condom extended between two fingers. "You want the honors?" As I reach for his hand, he quickly snatches it out of reach. "Or can I even trust you at this point?"

By now, he's standing between my legs once again, so I wrap myself around him, rubbing myself against his length. As one, we moan at the contact, and for a moment I completely forget about the condom, taking him in my hands once more, preparing to get him inside of me.

Amazingly, it's Chandler who comes to his senses first, wrapping his fingers gently around my wrist. "Condom, Monica?"

I release him, then smile up at him sheepishly. "Definitely can't trust me at this point."

He kisses the tip of my nose and hands me the condom anyway. "I think I'll take my chances."

I rip open the packet and take a deep breath, steadying myself. Definitely never been this horny before. Plus, I've never had sex this good, either. And it's been a really long time since I've even had sex. Add the fact that it's Chandler to all of that…

Very, very slowly, I slide the condom on Chandler, taking care to make sure it's on firmly, running my fingers teasingly up and down him once more. He lets out a sound that sounds very close to a growl as he grabs my wrist. "You're an evil woman, Monica," he tells me, crushing our bodies together.

I laugh as I pull his mouth to mine. "So make me stop."

He grabs my hips and in one fluid motion pushes inside of me. I let out a low moan even as I feel a huge sense of relief. We've only been doing this for a few hours, but being with him already feels more natural than without him.

He slides in and out of me slowly for several minutes, his face buried in my neck. My eyes roll back in my head as I groan happily. This is perfect. Torturous, but perfect. Then I realize he's torturing me on purpose.

"I think we're even," I breathe into his ear. I feel more than hear him chuckle before he pulls his head back to grin at me, his hips keeping the pace he set. "Problem?"

"Chandler," I moan, my voice bordering on a whine. "I need you."

"Really?" he asks, his voice sounding cocky. He starts to rotate his hips with every thrust. "How much?"

My breath hitches. "Ohhhhh. So much. So much." I think I catch him off-guard; his pace fumbles for a second. He smooths the hair back from my face and smiles at me, leaning forward, kissing me gently. My heart almost breaks from the tenderness of it all. I feel a brief moment of sadness at the thought of tonight being it for us, but I quickly push that out of my mind. All I want to think about is right now, what Chandler is doing to me, how he's making me feel. For now, it's enough.

I pull one leg up on to the bureau and slide my hands down his back to his ass, grabbing him firmly, keeping him pressed to me. He groans loudly, digging his fingers into my hips. "God, Monica, you are awesome."

I don't know where that came from, but I'll take it. I keep him in place, moving my own hips against him slowly. His breathing grows labored instantly. "Is that how it's gonna be?"

"'Fraid so," I answer, moving my hands back up to his shoulder blades, wrapping my free leg around his waist, keeping him close. I gyrate my hips as best I can without moving away from him; the friction is unbelievable.

I undulate against him slowly, biting my lower lip in pleasure, high-pitched moans escaping my mouth. "Goooooood, Chandler."

He must like it when I say his name; his hips start to move a bit more rapidly, my back thudding against the wall rhythmically. He grabs the back of my thigh, pulling me closer, and I can't even understand how we're doing this right now. There's no space between our bodies, but it feels like he's pushing into me farther and farther every time; it's exquisite.

"Say my name again," he grunts into my ear, his lips grazing my lobe, making me shudder. "Say it."

I kind of like bossy-Chandler. "Make me," I groan.

In an instant, his lips are around my breast and his hand has found its way to my pelvis. "God! Chandler!" I yell, my hand flying back against the wall, trying to find something to hold on to, my hips lifting off of the bureau for a few seconds, pushing against his fingers. "Chandler!"

His mouth leaves my breast and he smiles up at me. "You told me to make you."

My eyes fly open and I stare at him, panting heavily. "Don't stop," I command, pulling his head back to my chest.

Happily, he obliges, and for a few minutes my entire world becomes hazy. My back hits the wall harder and harder; all I'm able to articulate is, "Uh, uh, uh, uh," and for a very brief moment, I wonder about the people in the room next to us, if this is disturbing them. Then I realize this has been going on for hours now; they were probably disturbed some time ago.

Eh.

I feel my stomach start to tighten and push my hips against Chandler's harder. "So close," I moan. "So close."

All of a sudden he stops moving, his lips leaving me. I open my eyes. "What. The. Hell?"

"Not yet," he answers, caressing my cheek.

My mouth opens in disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

He leans in, kissing me tenderly. "I just want this to last a little while. Is that okay?"

How can I say no to that? I relax into his kisses, trying to breathe deeply, trying to ease my body from its tensed position. As much as my body is crying out for release, I have to admit that this is pretty nice.

Finally, he shifts his hips a little and I moan in happiness. We're back in business. I try to follow his lead, try to move at his pace, to keep it from ending too quickly, but it's tough. My senses are still on overdrive from earlier.

"Oh, yeah," I moan into his mouth, grabbing his back and pulling him to me. "Like that."

I feel myself building up again. His lips trail down from my lips back to my breasts and I hum in satisfaction. I push my hips against him faster, feeling as if I'm about to ignite. "Ohhhh. So good. Chandler…" I whimper. My body starts to tense.

Then Chandler's grip on my hips changes, keeping me still; he pulls his lips away from me once more.

"SON OF A BITCH!" I growl, my hips still moving involuntarily, trying to get closer to him, held back by Chandler's firm hands. "What are you doing to me?"

"Making it count," he answers, breathing heavily. He looks like he's barely in control.

"It counts!" I exclaim, starting to feel frantic. "It counts, it counts, it counts!"

"I just want it to be good," he tells me, pressing his forehead against mine.

I let out a strangled noise, still gasping for air. I've been screaming his name for hours, throwing myself at him, doing things I've never imagined, falling apart in his hands repeatedly, and he's suddenly concerned about it being good? "It's good," I try to reassure him. "It's better than good. This is amazing." I grab his face in my hands, looking him in the eye. "I need this." I correct myself. "_We_ need this."

He smiles, leaning in to kiss me. I let him for a few seconds before pulling away. "If you stop again," I warn, "I will actually kill you." In that moment, I'm dead serious. "I'm on the edge of insanity right now. Stop again, and you'll die."

My tone must make him believe because he starts to move against me again, more urgently now. My hips lift off the bureau to meet his; I slide down the wall bit by bit until I'm almost completely on my back, my body at an odd angle, my leg still propped up, and it feels fantastic. I slide my hands over his abdomen, before gripping onto his forearms. He's hovering over me, his look intense, focused. Sweat rolls off of him on to me, and I think it might be the most erotic thing ever. I moan my approval.

"You are so hot, Mon," he whispers to me, and my back arches off the bureau, pushing myself closer to him.

He looks off to the side for a moment, then back at me, grinning. He gestures to the side with his head.

"Wha?" I try to ask, unable to form a complete word.

"Mirror," he answers, looking back once more.

I turn my head reflexively; what I see is…whoa. I can't really see my face from that angle, but I can see all of Chandler; I can see our hips moving together, pounding against each other; I can see my arched back and him moving in and out of me; I can see his fingertips digging into my sides and my fingers clutching at his arms for dear life. It's more than I can take; it's too intense, too dirty, too erotic, and somehow…too beautiful and perfect. I look away, closing my eyes as my orgasm tears through me, a scream ripping out of my throat.

"CHANDLER!"

My movements are frenzied, erratic, frantic, uncontrollable, the image I just saw dancing behind my eyelids; I have to hope that he'll hold on to me.

A guttural noise escapes him; he slams into me harder for a few seconds before his head arches back and he answers me with a scream of his own. "MONICA!"

Finally, he collapses—half on me, half off. I can feel his thighs shaking. We breathe heavily into each other's ears for a while, happy, satisfied noises falling from our lips.

He kisses my shoulder. "Am I too heavy?" he asks, moving to pull away.

I wrap my arms around him tightly, keeping him close. "No, you're perfect." I kiss his jaw, then his earlobe, stroking the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck.

He caresses my sides for a few more minutes before wrapping his arms around my back, pulling us both into an upright position. My body protests a bit; that was definitely not an angle I have ever been in before. I drape myself over Chandler like cooked spaghetti, too satisfied and drained to do much moving.

"Hold on to me," he whispers in to my ear, kissing the outer shell. "I've always kind of wanted to try this."

I tighten my grip around his as best as I can, and he picks me off of the bureau. I whimper a little, realizing he's still inside of me, and it occurs to me in that moment that this whole time, I don't think he's gone entirely limp. I don't know if this is his normal state or if I've inspired something in him, but I'll take it.

He adjusts his grip on the backs of my thighs and pauses, his eyes slamming shut for a moment.

"You okay?" I ask, brushing the hair back from his forehead. "I can get down…"

"No, that's okay," he answers, his voice strained. "It just felt really, _really_ good; I needed a moment."

I do my best to keep still; the last thing I want to do is cause him to drop me and have us lose the moment. Finally, he takes the few shaky steps toward our bed before putting me down carefully. He stands up and he finally slides out of me, and we both groan at the loss of contact.

He sits down on the bed, reclining against the headboard, bending his legs at the knee at a bit. I crawl over to him, and instead of settling down beside him, I prop myself up on his knees, stretching my legs out next to him. This way, I can look at him to my heart's content.

He grins at me, not saying anything. He slides a hand gently up and down my calf as I tug part of the bedspread loose, draping it over our torsos.

"Tired?" he asks.

I shake my head slowly, snaking my hand under the covers already, sliding it up his leg until I can softly stroke him, still amazed at his body's reaction to me. "Not really."

He shudders at my ministrations, his eyes closing briefly, but says nothing.

We sit there for a long while, quiet, gently touching each other, staring at each other.

I never want tonight to end.

Eventually, he breaks the silence. "Whatever shall we do now?" He tugs my leg across my chest, placing a few kisses on the bottom of my foot, making my toes curl.

I raise an eyebrow. "I may have an idea."

*A/N…in case you were wondering….yes, that was on purpose. may have an idea." "s my chest, placing a few kisses on the bottom of my foot, making my toes curl.


	6. Chapter 6

Monica has a mischievous look in her eyes—a look I've seen many times throughout the course of our friendship. It usually means something interesting is about to happen.

I continue to caress the leg that's strewn across my chest. "Do tell."

"Well," she says slowly, her fingers dancing up and down me, sending fantastic shivers throughout my body. "I saw this in the Kama Sutra—"

I actually sputter as my eyes nearly bug out of my head. "You read of the Kama Sutra?!"

"Of course."

I groan, feeling myself stiffen beneath her fingers. "Jesus, that is so _hot_."

She grins at me. "I know. But I saw this one thing—it's not too outlandish, so don't get your hopes up. I'm not a gymnast or a contortionist."

"Monica, you're willing to take a page out of the world's greatest sex bible. I'm game."

"I thought you might be. Anyway, since you kind of seem to be into watching while doing, this _should_ give you an eyeful."

I am extraordinarily intrigued. "Go on…"

She says nothing; instead, she slides onto me, the blanket slipping off our bodies, keeping her back propped against my knees, her thighs straddling my hips. My breath catches in my throat. Definitely an eyeful.

She reaches back and pats my calf muscle. "You can put your legs down," she tells me, and I obey without hesitation. Slowly, she brings her legs up and braces her feet against my shoulders.

The visual stimulation alone may actually kill me. I'm fully erect between her thighs, heat coming off of her and out of her in waves. My entire body twitches. She leans back, bracing her hands on my knees. She raises her hips, slowly rubbing herself on me, and I purse my lips and avert my eyes, searching my mind for the least stimulating subjects I can think of and coming up short. My mind is filled with Monica. She's the only thing that exists.

Her head falls back as she creates delicious friction, and little moans escaping her mouth. I grab at her thighs desperately, stilling her movements. "Too much, Mon," I gasp out.

Her head slowly comes back up, her eyes halfway shut in pleasure, her cheeks flushed—in fact, the flush has spread most of the way down her chest. She's breathing heavily, her body is shaking; everything about her is a turn on.

I don't know what I did to be so lucky—I never thought tonight would happen. I never thought I'd get to be with Monica. But here she is in front of me, a living dream, everything I ever could have imagined and so much more. And she wants me; we've had sex five times tonight, and she still wants more. I'm giving her everything I've got—if this is my one night of pure bliss, I want to try to live out every fantasy possible.

I take deep, shaky breaths and stroke her thighs. Her hips are still rocking against me slightly. She gives me a gentle smile. "Let me know when you're ready," she whispers.

I swallow roughly and reach over to the nightstand, fumbling around for another condom. I hand it to her, silently asking her to do the honors once more. Maybe it's a great campaign for safe sex, but watching this woman roll a condom on me is ridiculously sensual.

Once everything is in place, she raises her eyebrow at me and I nod slightly; I'm probably as ready as I'll ever be.

She lifts her hips and I grit my teeth. If I make it through the next few moments, I'll be shocked as hell.

Slowly, so, so slowly, she slides down on me. Her head falls back once more, her mouth dropping open, a long, beautiful, "ohhhhhhhhhh," leaving her lips.

My heart starts to jackhammer as I watch. Disappearing into her, watching us meld into one person is a powerful experience.

"Oh, God, Monica," I moan as she comes down on me completely, my voice strained. "You're so beautiful." She huffs out a little laugh, and I can already tell what she's thinking—that she's sweaty and rumpled and disheveled and anything but attractive. "You're beautiful," I say firmly.

She curls her toes against my shoulders a bit. "So are you," she whispers, look at me with such intensity I think I feel my soul tremble.

She breaks the moment when she lifts her hips slowly until I'm almost out of her completely before easing back down on me.

This is torture.

I love it, but it's torture.

I stare, fascinated, as she moves over me; she was completely right when she figured I like to watch as I do. But watching _us_ do this isn't like anything I've ever experienced. She's completely in control right now; she's setting the pace, the intensity, all of it. I am putty in her hands. It's hypnotic.

With no warning, her hips start to slam against mine, her breasts bouncing rapidly. Watching her ride me like this almost makes me lose it on the spot. She starts to rotate her hips slightly with every down stroke and I fight for control. I get the feeling like this round won't take too long.

My hands clutch at her thighs, desperate to hold on to her. This position is phenomenal for visuals, but it does nothing for my intense desire to hold her as close as possible.

Her body stills, and her eyes pop open. Her chest heaves as she gasps for breath. "You can touch me, Chandler."

My mind hurries to catch up. "What?"

"You don't have to wait for me to tell you it's okay. Touch me as much as you want. I want you to."

I reach out a shaking hand and graze my fingers over her. Her entire body shudders in response, so I do it again. "Oh, yeah," she groans in a low voice. "Yeah." Her hips start to move again rapidly for just a few seconds before starts to buck wildly, one of her hands leaving my knee to keep my hand firmly in place as she pumps furiously.

"Yes, Chandler! Oh, yes yes YES OHHHHHHHHHH!"

With strength I didn't know I had, I force down my own orgasm. I'm not ready for this to be over. I grit my teeth and grunt loudly with the effort, and briefly wonder if this is what that whole tantric thing is all about. I feel sweat drip down my face as I try to calm myself enough to maintain some control, which is not an easy feat when Monica is still spasming on top of me, rubbing my hand against her furiously, satisfied noises still tumbling out of her mouth.

Her hips start to slow down—though they don't still completely. She treats me to a series of slow, sensuous strokes as she comes back down to earth. "Did you?" she asks, her voice high-pitched and breathy.

I'm still breathing heavily, barely in control. I don't trust myself to speak, so I shake my head vigorously.

"Thank God," she whispers as she puts her hand back on my knee and starts over, slowly sliding up and down me once more.

My free hand digs into the top of her thigh—I'm sure I must be leaving some sort of mark, but I don't think either one of us can bring ourselves to care. She's moaning constantly now, wordlessly.

My eyes widen in surprise as she leans back against me, slowly, until her back is against my knees, both of us moaning loudly. There's not much leverage for either of us with this angle, but I'll be damned if it's not hotter than hell. Unashamed, I whimper.

She grants me mercy and returns to a sitting position, hands braced against me once more. She continues to move slowly, but now, every time she slides down, she takes a moment to grind her pelvis into me.

"Ohhhh, Mon," I groan. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Both of us, I think," she pants out, never breaking pace. "But what a way to go."

I couldn't agree more. "Can you picture that headline?" I gasp out. "'Man, Woman, Dead From Too Many Orgasms'?"

She chuckles a little, her entire body vibrating against me. Her inner muscles clench around me, and I grit my teeth once more, all thoughts of humor gone.

"Let go, Chandler," she breathes.

I shake my head, straining. "Not without you. I want to wait for you."

She pauses once more, a look in her eyes I can't describe. Her hips start moving again, quicker this time, with more intent. She moans happily, biting her lip.

"Please don't fake it," I whisper.

"Don't have to," she groans.

The room is filled with soft moans, gradually growing louder; the sound of slick skin hitting slick skin. "Oh, Monica, I need to kiss you."

Before I can finish the sentence, her feet leave my shoulders and she sits up. I pull myself upright and wrap my arms around her, kissing her frantically, keeping her close. Her legs wrap around my waist as she grinds against me. I take a hold of her hips and guide her back and forth quickly. She tears her lips away, gasping for air, letting out a loud, "Ahhhhhhhh!" I kiss her throat, trying to make sure I don't leave any marks—don't know how we'd explain those at the wedding tomorrow.

Monica's noises fill my ears once more. "Oh. Ohh. Ohh. Ohhhhh. Ahhhhh. Ohhhhh. Yes. Oh, yes. Oh, God. Ohhhhh, Gooooooooood."

I grab her face and bring her lips to mine again, and she moans into my mouth. Together, we slam her hips against me, fast, faster, faster, until she pulls her mouth away once more, throwing her head back, screaming my name, her hips pumping violently against me.

That's all my body needs. I press my face into her chest, a yell ripping itself from deep within my core, thrusting into her as fast as I can.

Her fingers dig into my back as she moans into my ear, coming back down, and my hips finally start to slow. I fall back against the bed, Monica collapsing on top of me, our hearts thumping erratically against each other. I smooth down her hair, kiss her temple. I try unsuccessfully to steady my pulse. Monica's face is pressed against my collarbone, her hot breath still coming in gasps against me.

I pull her lips to mine again and kiss her thoroughly. She hums happily in the back of her throat and I move my hand to the back of her head, cradling her. Her hands come up to frame my face, returning my kiss enthusiastically.

We languidly make out for some time until our kisses slow down to just light pecks. She crosses her arms on my chest, propping up her head, and smiles at me. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"I thought you didn't like kissing."

I cock my eyebrow at her in confusion. "That's not a question."

She huffs out a sigh and rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Okay. But where did you get the idea that I don't like to kiss."

"From you."

"You've lost me."

"Remember—years ago—we were all talking about foreplay, and you guys started using that metaphor about how kissing is like the comedian that's all right but not why you bought the ticket?"

I search my mind—it does sound like something we'd talk about. "I think…"

"Yeah, and you said that it was like the opening act before Pink Floyd came out."

I burst out laughing. "Oh, yeah! That was a really long time ago. What made you think of that?"

She seems almost bashful all of a sudden. "Well, you've been doing a lot of kissing tonight. I mean, right in the middle of sex, you demanded to kiss me. I just didn't know if that was for my benefit or…"

"Kissing you is awesome," I answer, giving her another kiss to emphasize the point. "Maybe I happened to find a comedian just as good as Pink Floyd. An opening act that deserves to be part of the main show."

Her answering smile is dazzling—I must have said the right thing. "I like kissing you, too." She leans down, kissing me deeply once more.

I run my hands down her back and sigh. I wish this night would never end. I wish we could do this forever. My body feels like it's finally starting to grow weary, though. I want to hold out for as long as I can.

Her body relaxes against mine, all of her curves melting in to me, her legs draped over my thighs. It's heaven.

I shift, rolling us over so that I'm on top of her, pressing her in to the mattress. I settle in between her legs and cringe for a second.

"What?" she asks, immediately pulling away.

I make another face. "Used condom," I mumble. "I really wish there was a cool way to take them off."

She laughs softly, caressing my cheek. "Used condom means you just got to have sex—what's cooler than that?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" She shifts her hips away from me a bit and I reach down to remove the condom, tossing it into the garbage. I settle in to her arms once more. "Where were we?"

"Listening to that damn comedian again," she answers, making me laugh. I kiss her again. She moans softly, sounding content. Her legs come up, bending slightly at the knee and I sink more deeply in to her embrace. My heart feels like it could burst from happiness.

It's at that moment that I realize I want to make love to her.

Not that sex hasn't been fantastic—it has. But if this is our last hurrah, I want to know what it's like to make love to her. I want the raw emotions and sweet words and gentle touches, too. I wonder briefly why this thought doesn't scare me, but my mind just as quickly answers.

It's Monica.

That's all I need.


	7. Chapter 7

*a/n...OMG you guys the pressure of this chapter! All the pressure!

* * *

I sigh as Chandler kisses me gently, cradled between my thighs, his weight comforting on top of me.

This must be what perfect feels like.

I softly run my fingers up and down his back, humming contentedly. He's holding my face, his thumbs moving slowly over my cheeks.

I think I could kiss him forever.

He's really good at it. He's gotten even better as the night has gone on, as he's relaxed more.

"Chandler," I whisper against his lips, needing to hear his name out loud, to make sure it's real.

My heart pounds against my chest, fluttering occasionally as he shifts his hips or says my name.

I rub my foot gently against his calf. He breaks the kiss, looking down at me tenderly.

"What?"

He shakes his head, smiling slowly. "Nothing."

I pull his face back to mine, kissing him again. We take our time exploring each other, hands moving softly over damp skin, through rumpled hair.

He pulls away again, this time reaching over for another condom. He shifts his body away from mine for a few moments, and I take deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm myself. He maneuvers on to his knees, ripping open the foil and rolling on the condom, and I notice that my hips are undulating slowly, desperate for the contact. Desperate for him. He places a gently hand on my hip, stilling my movements.

He lays on top of me once more, kissing me deeply. I moan into his mouth, my hips pushing against his again. He closes his eyes and groans, but otherwise ignores me. I push myself against him more insistently, my need for him fierce.

"Slow down, Monica. We've got time," he whispers, moving his lips down to my neck.

"I need you, Chandler," I breathe. "I need you inside of me."

His lips still and he brings his eyes up to meet mine. He presses his forehead against mine briefly. "I've never wanted anything as much as I want you."

My heart stops for just a moment before it begins to race. He leans down and kisses me tenderly for a moment before his eyes connect with mine once more. He takes my hand gently, bringing it down to his erect penis, and together we guide him in to me.

As it's happening, I realize this is the first time all night we've made eye contact at this point. It's intense. I see a lot of things in his eyes that I can't identify, that should probably scare me. I whimper as he pushes in to me, turning in to a full-fledged moan as he slowly fills me.

I make a few more soft noises as he settles back down on me, our bodies flush once more. He smiles at me gently and presses his lips to mine.

I sigh shakily into his mouth before relaxing into his kiss. His arms slide under mine, his hands coming up to wrap around my shoulders. I twine my arms around his back, sliding a hand up to the nape of his neck.

I finally realize that he's not moving against me. In fact, he seems completely content with what we're doing right now. I shift my hips a bit, trying to create some friction.

He ignores me.

I shift my hips more insistently.

"No rush, Monica."

I growl a little in frustration, not understanding what he's trying to do, but still my hips for the moment, letting him kiss me.

This kissing part is pretty fantastic, though.

Finally, slowly, he thrusts in to me. Very slowly out, then just as slowly back in. I moan in happiness and sigh.

He keeps that pace, truly in no hurry, just moving against me slowly, his mouth mimicking his hips. It's amazing.

His hips push into mine a little harder and I gasp. He does it again. And again. And again. Still moving against me slowly, stroking in and out of me deliciously, his mouth devouring mine.

It feels like this time, it's not about the destination; it's about the journey. It's about taking time to enjoy every little bit of each other.

It's heaven. It's absolute heaven.

His lips break away from mine for a few seconds as he comes up for air. He smiles at me, stroking my jaw softly. "Monica," he breathes.

I feel an ache deep within me all of a sudden. I can't explain it. Something inside of me just hurts. I swallow heavily, feeling my chest constrict. As he looks into my eyes, I have to force myself not to cry. I've never experienced this sort of connection before. And that's when I realize what's happening.

He's making love to me.

This whole night up until now has been about need and desire and fulfillment, and it's been fantastic. But this…this is about connecting, about passion and want. I realize that no matter what I've done with anyone else up to this point, it has _never_ been like this.

It scares the hell out of me.

I feel my eyes filling with tears despite my best efforts, so I crane my head up, capturing his lips with mine once again. I squeeze my eyes shut and feel a couple of tears escape. Hopefully, he won't notice. Maybe it will just blend in with the sweat.

His hips move against me a bit faster now, still not rushing. "Chandler," I moan quietly. "Oh, Chandler." I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in.

Don't fall in love with. Don't fall in love with him. Don't fall in love with him.

I can't let myself imagine a future with someone who may not want to be with me in the morning, who I don't know if I would even fault if he didn't want to be with me in the morning. We didn't exactly talk about this beforehand, but I think we both went in with the impression that this was just one night.

But the thought of this ending, of never having this again, breaks my heart. Never in my life have I felt so…everything. I feel complete, like he's what has been missing the entire time.

It should scare me to feel this way.

I should be terrified.

But what is actually scary is never having this again.

It isn't being with Chandler, having this connection with him, that's scary after all. It's being without him.

"You're so perfect," he whispers, kissing my neck.

I pull his head up, looking into his eyes, not caring at the moment if he can tell that I've been crying. "_We're_ perfect," I answer.

We are.

He starts to move against me a little faster now, with more of a purpose. He grinds his pelvis in to me every time. My eyelids flutter shut as I moan. "Ohhh. Ohhhh. Ohhhh."

He presses his forehead to mine, and our panted-gasps mingle. Our moans become one. His hips move a little faster. My knees bend up a little higher, granting him better access, helping him go deeper. I cry out, digging my fingernails into his shoulders.

"Oh, God," I whimper.

He moans my name and I push my hips against his a little harder, and I feel torn—part of me wants things to speed up, needing that release. The other part of me wants this go on forever, this exquisite agony, this feeling of being one with another person.

"Want you," he breathes against my mouth, his breathing labored. "So bad."

I reach up and stroke his hair. "You've got me," I answer softly.

He groans and our hips start to move together more forcefully. My back arches off the bed a little, trying to get closer even though our bodies are firmly pressed together.

Chandler's lips find mine once again, kissing me deeply, passionately. I can feel the coil slowly winding in the pit of my stomach again.

His hand runs down my side carefully, sliding all the way down to my foot and back up. Goosebumps pop up all over my flesh.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers. "So beautiful."

I let out a long, shuddery moan. "Chandler," is all I can say.

He moves faster. I can feel the intensity building, gasping at the friction we're creating. My hand reaches up, grasping at my pillow, clutching and squeezing in time with Chandler's movements.

It won't be long now.

Our hips push together frenetically, always in perfect sync. His hand skims up my arm, his fingers sliding in between mine, clutching my hand in his, his lips working their way down my neck and back up.

My name drops from his lips like a prayer, a plea. I squeeze my eyes shut and push against him furiously, on the brink, now desperate for release, so close, so close.

"Oh, God, baby," he moans against my lips, pumping faster, and I break. My entire body coils around him tightly as I throw my head back, screaming out wordlessly, my heart exploding, driving against him, desperate for more of this feeling, never wanting it to end.

He loses control right behind me, pounding me into the bed, his own yell nearly as loud as my own.

I continue to thrust against him, gasping for air, clutching at his back, my orgasm continuing to roll over me in waves, each more intense than the last.

He holds me tight, his body still moving against mine, still moaning loudly in to my hair.

I feel like I'm coming apart.

My body tenses suddenly and I cry out again, his name tearing from my lips, thrashing against him wildly once more and I'm not sure if it was another one or the same one and I don't care because nothing has ever felt like this before.

My body finally grants me mercy and starts to slow down. I still cling to him, almost afraid to let go. I try to take deep breaths, making a noise with every exhalation.

Chandler clutches me to him, his body shaking, his own breathing ragged.

We say nothing for a long time. I keep my face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily, trying to process everything that's happened.

The ache is still in my chest. I can't tell if it's a good ache or a bad one. I tighten my grip on Chandler and sigh.

All of a sudden, he's kissing me again, fiercely, almost desperately. I respond in kind—there aren't any words right now, not for this.

He gently rolls off of me, and I feel the already-familiar sense of loss that comes with the end of sex with him. I curl in to his side, wrapping my arm around his waist.

I really hope that I don't have to leave; that I don't have to gather up my clothes and try to walk out of here and go back to my lonely hotel room and pretend that I'm fine.

I can't do that right now.

Maybe in a few hours, I'll be able to manage that, but right now I don't think I can even walk.

Chandler's arms wrap around me, pulling me closer, his head resting against mine. I suddenly feel exhausted.

"What time do you have to go do bridesmaid things?" Chandler asks softly, breaking the silence.

"Hair and mimosas at 10," I answer.

"My alarm is set for 8:30—will that give you enough time?"

I feel a weight lift off my shoulders, overjoyed that he wants me to stay. "Plenty," I answer, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "What time is it now?"

I feel his head leave mine for a second as he checks the time, settling back against me before answering. "Almost four."

"Oh, God," I groan. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

"Worth it," he mumbles, kissing the top of my head.

"Can't argue with that."

We're silent again. Chandler's hands stroke me softly. I tighten my grip around him, burrowing further into his side. I fight sleep for as long as I can; as exhausted as I'll probably be in the morning, I just need to hold on to this night—this moment—for as long as I can.

Despite my best efforts, though, my eyelids grow heavy, lulled by the steady beat of Chandler's heart.


End file.
